A Hobbits Tale
by Seraphine Rose
Summary: The story Of Frodo's life, Please Read and Review!
1. Picking up the Peices

A/N This would be my second LoTR fic, hopefully its liked o.O  
  
I would like reviews flames are welcomed too.  
  
ANYWAY Im sure you don't want my chatter, so on with the story!  
  
Disclaimer- Once again, I'm JRR Tolkien who died 30 years ago and has been resurrected to right this fiction..NOT! Im a 14 year old girl with to much time on her hands and no life to speak of therefore I do not own any characters you recognize the only thing I own in the process is my own thought process, but sometimes I don't even know about that...o.O  
  
Chappter1: Picking up the Pieces  
  
Numb, the only word to describe the terrible feeling coursing through him, the world seemed a terrible dream he longed to rouse up from. The day's events ran through his head like a violent river, threatening to overpower him,  
  
Dead  
  
Burning liquid rose in his eyes, threatening to spill over onto his overly pale cheeks, the conversation burned deep into the four year olds memory forever to remain painful to him.  
  
"Frodo?" A soft voice said touching his shoulder and drawing his attention away from  
  
the tower that he was intent upon building from delicately carved building blocks, made  
  
for him by his father for his fourth birthday. Innocent azure eyes gazed at the strange  
  
man, curious as to who he was.  
  
"Wes?" Frodo said sweetly, the man gazed sadly at the child, his wise eyes tinted with despair. Kneeling beside the toddler he laid a gentle hand on Frodo's shoulder.  
  
"Frodo, do you remember your parents leaving with a tiny boat this morning?" nodding profusely, the four year old recalled the wooden tub looking contraption his parents had taken to the river.  
  
"Wes sir, Mama said dat day would be back by lunch dough," Frodo said. The old man pulled the hobbit into his lap sighing wearily.  
  
"I'm afraid Frodo, you Mama and Papa won't be coming back" Blue met blue, confusion contorting the four year olds face.  
  
"Sir, Mama pwomised she dun NEVER break her promises. Why she not comin back?" the graying man held Frodo close, his flowing silver beard tickling the toddlers stomach.  
  
"Frodo, do you remember Little Suzy Proudfoot?" Frodo nodded "Remember what happened to her, do you remember why she's not with her Mama and Papa any longer?"  
  
"Mama said Suzy goes to the stars!" Frodo whispered "She says that the stars took her 'cause she was so's sick."  
  
"Well Frodo, I'm afraid the stars decided to take your Mama and Papa to join Suzy, you see my dear hobbit they are no longer with us, their boat turned upside down and they drowned, you know what drowned means right Little one?"  
  
'Right... right..' the words echoed around Frodo's mind, his eyes no longer holding back the  
  
waves of tears. Yes, he had knew drowned, he knew it meant his parents would not come  
  
back to him, it meant he would never hear his mother sing gentle lullabies to him or learn  
  
to climb the highest tree with his father.  
  
A soft breeze ruffled his chocolate brown curls, brushing them into his  
  
swollen eyes. Tears of grief fell to the browning grasses of Brandy hall, the eyes from  
  
whence the tears came were focused solely on the quickly running river cutting through  
  
the landscape, separating the tangled forest from the sweeping meadows and farms.  
  
Pushing himself from the muddy ground, the toddler ran to the rivers edge, glaring in  
  
hatred at the shimmering glass like surface of the water. Pain and rage coursed through  
  
every branch of his little body, his mouth opened letting out and anguished howl . The  
  
small hobbit hit and kicked the water, churning up silt and tadpoles,  
  
releasing the frustration he held from the phony sympathy, and the pity- filled glances  
  
from strangers who cared little for his parents deaths, pretending to be troubled so  
  
they could receive something of the late husband and wives'.  
  
A cheerless laugh from a stand of trees pulled him away from his outburst, an older man  
  
dressed in a bright red vest, white blouse and emerald green slacks stood leaning against  
  
a tree watching the hobbit-lad with sad and curious eyes.  
  
"My dear Little Frodo, I do believe the water is not to blame for you pain my boy so attempting to destroy it with your fists and feet are a useless endeavor" Icily the little hobbit called out  
  
"Dis water stoled my Mama and Papa from me! Nows you deave me 'lone and go on tending to care bout dem like everbo'y else" the man again chuckled softly  
  
"I've no fake pity or remorse for you my boy, 'tis all real I'm afraid," Carefully, the man  
  
slid down the beside Frodo as stared down at the churning foam and clear water,  
  
tears sliding down his soft cheeks and into the rolling river producing insignificant  
  
ripples . The man studied the young hobbit for a moment wheels of thought turning  
  
behind his eyes, eyes which, though young in appearance, held pools of wisdom, of failed  
  
dreams and successful endeavors, and of the worst pain and most breathtaking joy. Pain  
  
laced his demeanor at the moment and he took the young ones' hand.  
  
"Frodo lad, you will be given to a new family who will care for you, it won't be the same as your parents of course but there will be a roof above your scraggly head, and mushrooms on your dinner plate. Your parents left you all of their possessions, I had little doubt they wouldn't. Now though the pilfers are after custody for you, so they can get their filthy paws on your Mama and Papa's riches and treasures. The choice, my lad, of who your to stay with is your own so choose wisely. Wolves lie among the best of Hobbits" The hobbit laid back, closing his eyes against the piercing sunshine.  
  
Shaking from the tip of his curls to his tiny feet, Frodo sobbed into his arms. The pain had grown while the old hobbit spoke, every emotion bottled up within him burst out in the forms of wracking sobs, and silent teardrops. The toddler felt someone wrap their arms around him and rock him slowly, murmuring a soft song in his ear.  
  
"Dry your tears my child,  
  
End your trembling cries  
  
For the wind wafts good, and the sun lights dark.  
  
The stars smile down upon you,  
  
Dry your tears my child  
  
The world has yet to end  
  
Sleep in hope that the heavens shall not bend  
  
Dry your tears my child  
  
Quell your silent fears  
  
Beauty is around you, beauty is in your tears  
  
Dry your tears my child  
  
For I will not away  
  
I am here my darling, so let no tears fall longer."  
  
Quieted by the sweet lullaby, Frodo clutched his and around the soft white shirt , not realizing it was the old man who rocked him, who held him in a safe and secure embrace. Red, the color of his mothers soft hair, filled his senses as the last of his tears stained the brilliant cloth.  
  
"There now, no more tears it would sadden your parents to see you in such a dreadful state on their account. I would know, as your father was my eldest brother." A soft, yet sad, smile curled his lips.  
  
"Twell me a 'tory 'bout my Papa, pwease sir?" A calloused hand ruffled Frodo's soft curls  
  
"Course my boy, I can think of no better medicine for sorrow then a story. Well, why not he story of when your father got him self stuck in the party tree in Hobbiton. WE were not a lot older then you when."  
  
The two hobbits, young and old, sat curled beside that river until the the moon bowed  
  
her shining head above the mountain side, and Frodo's steady breaths indicated his  
  
dreaming state. Chuckling softly, the elderly hobbit lifted the child into his arms,  
  
returning him to his bed.  
  
"I shall take him! He is, after all, *my* nephew" The old Brandybuck argued to the elderly took, both Hobbits were, of course, fighting over the placement of the little Frodo Baggins who at he present, lay wrapped in warm quilts and pleasant dreams. Watching quietly, the old man sat in a rickety chair in the corner smoking a pipe. The normally comforting, wise eyes burned with sadness and anger as he watched the exchange between the two old hobbits.  
  
"He is *my* nephew as well Ill have you remember, closer a cousin to me then you, you old ninnyhammer" Took snapped icily. "therefore he shall come with me, I'll not have you interfere" The old hobbit could take no more, flying from his seat he shot daggers at the two adults.  
  
"Neither of you shall take him without his consent, it is *his* choice with whom he lives, and from the likes of your bickering I'd give neither of you a glance were I him."  
  
"Swir?" a shaky voice whispered. Crying silent tears in the oblong doorway, was little Frodo Baggins clutching a ragged cotton blanket to his chest. "Im sowee I made everbo'y fuss" pitifully he turned his cobalt eyes on the old Hobbit, who's heart wrenched at the sad sight of the little one. Crossing the room swiftly, he lifted the child into his arms.  
  
"No sorry's Me boy, it's not your fault you're an adorable little child. Why, these fine hobbits want to take you into their homes, your quiet a popular little hobbit Frodo Baggins" The blue eyes were now trained on the hobbit men behind the old man  
  
"Are day, de woffies dat want Mama and papa's tweasures?" The man laughed  
  
"Why Frodo-lad, such a memory you have for one so young. No these are not the wolves, I promise and I can tell. Living alone, with no visitors but those who are unwelcome and trying to wrench something from you teaches a lot don't you know." The Hobbit's sapphire eyes widened shocked.  
  
"'Ou's gots no one neither?" Frodo asked shocked "But's you's a growed up! Don't 'ou got babies and a babies mama?" The man chuckled touching Frodo's little nose  
  
"Not a sole but me self and the occasional welcomed visitor. Now, I believe we have talked enough about me, you must make your choice, where do you want to go to live?" The little ones eyes looked up at him, intrigued at the older hobbit.  
  
"W'as you nam'?" Frodo asked, the man smiled  
  
"Bilbo, but you should call me uncle Bilbo my boy." The old took huffed impatiently  
  
"Come, boy choose who are you staying with?" Frodo looked away from Bilbo's Jolly  
  
face and comforting chocolate eyes, into the cold faces of his other uncles, the uncles he  
  
had known since birth. Now, however, their generally warm eyes held only bitterness.  
  
Neither pair, green or hazel, held the warm, comfort, or wisdom of his uncle Bilbo's. His  
  
heart grieved for his Mama and Papa, tears slid down his cheeks once, the stony stares  
  
told him of a life with out comfort, without stories, without love. A gentle hand wiped the  
  
tears from his pale cheek, his sapphire eyes looked into the gentle smile of his uncle.  
  
Hesitantly, Frodo wrapped his short arms around the stout and wrinkly neck of his uncle.  
  
"Can-can I wive wit 'ou 'ncle Belbo?" A chorus of angry roars startled the hobbit to tears again, tears which now were buried in the crook of Bilbo Baggins neck.  
  
Angry with Took and Brandybucks behavior, Bilbo silenced them with a single harsh  
  
look, cradling the shaking child against his breast. Curly, chocolate hair fell upon Bilbo's  
  
cheek, it was matted and caked with dirt such as a toddler-hobbits hair should. Examining the child from Frodo's position in his arms, Bilbo observed several scabs and bruises, the mark of a fun-loving and joyous child. However, when he initially saw they bright blue eyes of the boy he could see nothing but anger and pain, pain no child should endure. The song that calmed Frodo the day before passed his lips softly, once again silencing the boys' sobs.  
  
"Of course you can come to Bag End with me my dear little hobbit, nothing could give me more joy." The lad pulled away gazing at Bilbo wondrously through watery blue eyes.  
  
"Weally 'ncle Beblo?! Pwomise?" blue searched Hazel, finding warmth like a peaceful flame.  
  
"Promise, go get your things together you'll need immediately. We'll leave soon as you like." Virtually bursting with joy, the four year leapt from Bilbo's grasp, bounding into his room to collect his belongings. Whistling happily, Bilbo smiled at the two disgruntled hobbits and walked away, a hop in his step as his thoughts drifted to the adorable little boy with sparkling azure eyes. 


	2. Forged Friendship

A/N Well I hope you enjoyed the first Chapter, this will probably be a series, If you actually like it. In all honesty Its not my best work (none of It is REALLY that good) But it's fun, and for spirits sake PLEASE Read and review!!!!  
  
Anyway on with Chapter 2  
  
uChapter 2: /u  
  
The stars shown bright as diamonds in the dusky cobalt sky, the moon winking peacefully at the weary travelers. Yawning, Bilbo gazed over at the bundle of blankets cuddled into the corner of the rickety wooden cart carrying all of his nephews' belongings; he looked adorable cuddled up like a cold puppy. Recalling earlier hours, a brilliant smile spread across the elderly Hobbit's face, Frodo had been so thrilled, his face shone as bright as the sun brighter if that was possible.  
  
i Bilbo rested in a rickety wooden rocker, the warmth of the fireplace wrapping around him like a snug blanket, a mug of ale clutched in his hand. Silence, it was an odd sensation in the sanctity of Brandyhall, even with the smallest children tucked beneath their quilts.  
  
"'ncle Beblo?" A quiet voice broke through the air, Bilbo turned and saw the familiar pair of azure eyes, not more then a foot from the tip of his nose. The child, hair bedraggled and clothes wrinkled, stood before him nervously clutching the comfort blanket made by his mother close to his chest.  
  
"Frodo lad, it's terribly late, what brought you from out your warm quilts?" Frowning, Frodo climbed onto his uncles' lap, nestling again the soft warm chest. His uncles' heartbeat soothed him, just as his mothers did.  
  
"Dweams were scawy" Frodo whispered, his lip quivering. Bilbo's arms wrapped seculey around him, giving him assurance that nothing could hurt him if Bilbo was around. Frodo cuddled closer, making Bilbo's smile return. The hobbit placed a gentle kiss on the little ones forehead, stroking his head and playing with his chocolate curls.  
  
"Comfortable?" Frodo nodded groggily and Bilbo chuckled "Excellent, now tell Uncle Bilbo all about your scary dream." A yawn broke from the young hobbits lips as his eyelids drooped. Lulled by the stead drum of his uncles heart, Frodo hardly managed to stay awake.  
  
"I dweamed dat mean pwople in bwack clowaks twied to gwab me and take me away." Bilbo stroked his matted hair rocking him gently.  
  
"On my honor, I promise that no one shall take you. Why don't you scurry off to bed, we have a long way to travel tomorrow, Hobbiton is a lengthy way away from here." Shaking his head, the hobbit toddler buried his head further into the crook of Bilbo's arm.  
  
"Can I sweep wid 'ou 'onight?" Looking into the sapphire eyes of his nephew, Bilbo felt any resistance he had towards the idea crumble like rock into the sea. Sighing deafeatedly, Bilbo nodded stretching out, Frodo cuddled into his side, face buried in his uncles' arms. Making himself comfortable as well, Bilbo laid his head atop his nephews and drifted to sleep, unaware of the music his heartbeat played for the distraught child.  
  
Waking from a restful sleep, Bilbo discovered his face buried in a pass of russet tresses, disorientated the old hobbit attempted to recall the previous night. Memories of his nephew fallings asleep in his arms came to him, and he smiled lovingly down at the sleeping youngster. /i  
  
A similar smile was spreading across his face, years it had been since he had fallen in love with another Hobbit, yet he could never remember loving another as muchas he loved little Frodo. Having barley known the youngster a day, he already felt inclined to love him, protect him, even give his life for him should the time come when the little one needed his help.  
  
"Though" Bilbo whispered to himself 'He does already need me, he needs love, a family." With all his heart, Bilbo hoped he could give the hobbit toddler what he deserved in life.  
  
The sun had risen just above the range of the Misty mountains as Hobbiton rose from the mist before them, Frodo yawned and muttered incoherent words in his sleep. Bilbo fought desperately to remain opened eyed as he bid the pony onward, hobbit holes appeared and rays of golden light fell upon rounded doors and large windows.  
  
Full of color and life were the gardens, diamond dew drops hung like jewels from silken petals all colors the imagination could dream up. Emeralds, sapphires, rubies and pearls appeared to spring from the ground, their colors more fantastic then all other blooms. Pinks and baby yellows reflected the spectacular sunrise before the, looking as though the sunrise was a painting, and it's wonderful colors fell onto these particular blossoms. Fields of Hobbit weed, potatoes, and corn stretched to the horizon, promising a crop enough to supply all of Hobbiton for the bitter cold months.  
  
Rising steadily, the road climbed up the last large hill of their Journey. Resting at the bottom of the final hill sat Bag End, home. Exhausted from the terrible exertion, the old pony struggled during the climb. Finally, after coaxing the pony slowly to the top, Bilbo looked down upon the roof of beautiful Bag End. Glancing Backwards, Bilbo saw Frodo stir slightly, but not wake.  
  
Bag End was as always well tended, during his visit he saw that the servant of the hole had painte the fence and tended the flowers. Deciding against unloading until Frodo was settled, Bilbo lifted the toddler from the wagon and took him into the study, laying him on the armchair beside the fireplace. After lighting a roaring fire in the grate, Bilbo snuck off, making haste so as to finish his scheme before the child awoke.  
  
Dusk had set in, though the stars did not shine this night, dark rain clouds overshadowed the small hobbit holes, and large farm lands. Wind whistled through the leaves of old oak trees, shaking aged branches against the window panes. Pounding on the door startled a hectic Bilbo. Wrenching it open, Bilbo beamed at the knocker standing inside so as to let them in.  
  
"Bell! Such a pleasant surprise, might I ask the business of this lovely business?" A lovely woman crowned with curly golden locks smiled, adjusting a large, squirming bundle in her arms.  
  
"Horrible news Mr. Bilbo sir, the boys have taken ill, all 'cept this scalawag here" The woman said placing the bundle on the cold floor, a head of curly gold hair peeked from inside the warmth of the cloak. Bilbo's famous grin spread and he grabbed the little creature in the bundle swinging it about playfully, the little one inside emitting a joyus squeal when he was placed in Bilbo's arms. Grayish-greedn eyes stared into his own Hazel and a little hand reached up grabbing a fistful of white hair.  
  
"Bebo" the one-year old infant squealed "Bebo pay" probing fingers tickled the little ones belly eliciting another happy shriek  
  
"How's my Sammy boy today?" Bilbo cooed to the little Samwise  
  
"Heathly, more then I can say for his brothers and sisters" Bell interjected smiling warmly "Mr Bilbo would I be above my station to ask a favor of you?" A chuckle sprung from Bilbo;s mouth  
  
" As a servant, yes. As my dear friend I would walk the oceans for you on that note ask away!"  
  
"I do not want Sam falling ill as well, him being as young as he is, would you watch him this eve? It would give a chance for that new boy of yours to become aquainted with my little darling here." Bell said  
  
"A fantastic Idea Bell my dear, Of course I watch the rascal. As for Frodo, the two will get along famously I'm positive of that. Now hurry back to your family, a nasty storm is brewing and we wouldn't want you caught up in it." Thanking the old hobbit profusely, Bell bid him farewell sweeping out the garden gate and down the lane.  
  
Bringing the infant inside, Bilbo sat Samwise on the floor beside frodo's chair,  
  
"Now Sammy boy, be very quiet Frodo's sleeping, and he can't wake quite yet" Putting a finger to his lips to enforce his point, Bilbo swept silently from the room. Cpnfused at having been left alone, Sam pulled himself up holding on tightly to the arm of the large chair, the hobbit boy sleeping peacefully in the chair was a stranger to the little one. Testing, Sam put a tiny hand on Frodo's slightly larger hand smiling at the warmth radiating from it.  
  
Frodo stirred, a gentle tapping on his hand, wondering if it was drizzling on his hand, frodo opened a single bleary eye and was surprised to see a young hobbit-infant, not stars and rain as he had expected to wake to. The little one seemed intent to play with his finger and Frodo let him, fascinated with the young hobbit.  
  
"On, tu, twee" the golden hair child whispered, frodo shifted slightly, startling the baby from it's private game. Guilty at having scared the little fellow , Frodo patted his head awkwardly.  
  
"'ello im Fwodo, 'ho are 'ou?" the question was simple, yet seemded to puzzle the babe  
  
"Fwo oh?" the child questioned, and frodo shook his head no  
  
"Fwodo"  
  
"Fwo oh!" the infant cried happily, Despite his arivation at the mispronuonciation frodo could not help but smile at the soy on the infants face  
  
"Fwo oh dats wight, whats you 'ame?" repeating it jolted a memoery of having asked before in the infants mind  
  
"Sam!" the babe cried hugging Frodo's arm, again Frodo patted the child's head unsure of what to do with him.  
  
""ice to meet you Sam" Frodo said  
  
"'ike fwo oh!" same cried happily  
  
And so was the formation of the friendship between Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, later known as the friendship of life, as their friendship gave them life to survive horrendous conditions in Mordor.  
  
A/N Be ready for the next chapter coming soon! Read and Review!!! 


	3. Homecoming

A/N Ok yea, so Iv been told my writing is funny, or hard something to that extent. Please forgive me, Im fourteen and trying to write the way my Honors Writing teacher is says is proper. That means dissimilar adjectives (someone mentioned that) So I apologize, I have to write that way for class and If I don't do it for stories or well Ill be tempted to do it for essays, that and to much repeating sounds funny.  
  
And I know I used men more then once, but tried not to. Also, I was not sure of how far apart in age the two were, this just fit in with the story, creative license you could say Im using.  
  
Right with all that over, thankee to my reviewers, I appreciate it criticism and all.  
  
On with the story.  
  
Chapter 3: Homecoming  
  
It was truly amazing what eight hours and some fine effort could do, Bilbo thought to himself as he surveying his finished project.  
  
Deciding there was nothing more work he could that night, the hobbit stepped out from the room and shutting the glossy bottle green door in his wake.  
  
Congratulating himself, Bilbo snuck noiselessly down the main hall of Bag End. Peaking in, the hobbits eyes fell upon the sweetest sight he could remember seeing in all his travels.  
  
Curled within the chairs arms, sat Frodo, his azure eyes staring down at the curly, fair-haired child lying stretched out on his back, arms wrapped around the older hobbit-toddlers waist.  
  
Thunder growled overhead, in his frenzy to finish Bilbo had become oblivious to most of the outside world, save the booming knocking on his front door an hour earlier.  
  
Watching the two tiny hobbits gave him great joy, they seemed comfortable in each other's arms neither of them giving any heed to the storm, which had brought them to that very position.  
  
Neither noticed the old hobbit's presence, Frodo was preoccupied with studying the infant cradled in his arms, while Sam watched the fat drops of rain fall shaking at ever flash of lighting, and rumble of thunder, already the bond between them was obvious, though neither babe nor child knew.  
  
Unwilling to disturb such a serene scene, Bilbo let himself silently out of the doorway and instead sitting in a sheltered part of the garden to watch the storm in all of its beauty.  
  
He mulled over the events of the past few days, and how in such a short time his life had changed more then it had ever, and for the better as well.  
  
Nothing had touched his old heart more then seeing that little hobbit in such pain, Bilbo recalled the death of his parents he had been older of course but the sorrow of loss knows no age, as the hobbit knew well enough.  
  
The storm passed over quickly leaving fallen boughs upon grass, and leaves upon the stone doorsteps of the aged hobbit holes.  
  
Piercing the black storms haze, the sun reflected off the raindrops hanging from the leaves edge, each drop threatening to fall into the tangled maze of grass below, beauty at it's finest Bilbo thought, his jumbled thoughts forgotten in the splendor before him.  
  
Deciding it was time to surprise his nephew; Bilbo pulled his tired form from his porch chair and let himself through the door.  
  
Still curled beside each other, Frodo and Sam stared into the warm flames in the hearth both relived the storm had passed.  
  
The old Hobbit cleared his throat startling the children. Frodo jumped knocking Sam from the chair to the floor, the infant-hobbit began to wail until his face was red with exertion.  
  
"O Sammy iz is *so* sowee" the youngster rounded on his Uncle, a frown prominent on his smooth face. "'ncle! 'ou scare us! Aw pwease dun cwy Sammy", Frodo fell to his knees beside the infant and kissed his furrowed brow. Immediately, the tears ceased. A smile dazzling as a sunrise spread across the hobbits little face.  
  
"Tank Frooh!" Sam cried, hugging his friend with all the strength he possessed.Gently, Bilbo swept them both into his arms and flying them from the room amidst squeals of Joy and surprise.  
  
"'ncle Beblo were's you gonna takes us?" The muffled voice of his Nephew echoed in his ear.  
  
"'Tis a surprise my boy, one you shall like I do believe. And stop your squirming Sammy-lad, lest I drop you on top of your curly little head" The twisting and turning of the infant halted abruptly, at the same moment Bilbo stopped before the glistening green door standing the two boys back on their feet.  
  
"Open the door Frodo" Bilbo coaxed eagerly, the hobbit-toddler looked up wide eyed into the twinkling eyes of his Uncle. Cautiously, Frodo opened the door a crack, peeking inside with a single sapphire eye.  
  
"Come now boy, open it all the way!" Doing as he was told, the four year yanked the handle with all his might, throwing it back into wall. A most splendid sight met his little eyes.  
  
The room beyond the door was spectacular.  
  
Wind chimes of many shapes, colors, and patterns hung from the gently curved ceiling. A little bed draped with over stuffed quilts, and the softest feather pillows sat before a high windows seat overlooking the exquisite garden. It was of simple design, but this did not matter to the child for as young as he it was incredible.  
  
"'ncle, its pwettyful!" Frodo whispered, the older hobbit kneeled eyelevel to the little one, placing his hands on Frodo's shoulders  
  
"And it's all yours," came the reply "Welcome home Frodo." 


End file.
